


Dream a Little Dream of Me

by JohnlocksImpala



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 15:40:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7058683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnlocksImpala/pseuds/JohnlocksImpala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Sherlock starts talking and dreaming about John and the Woman, while John is in the room?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream a Little Dream of Me

John was getting tired, and Sherlock was finally in bed.

 

They were both in their pajamas, and it was getting late. As John sat huddled over his knees in his favorite chair, Sherlock was getting in bed. The sky was turning from a dark blue to streaks of orange and purple and John felt that it was too quiet. 

 

“IRENE. COME NOW.”

 

Sherlock bellowed.

 

John groaned, he was thinking about Irene again. When he walked into Sherlock's room, Sherlock’s shirt was off. While completely asleep, Sherlock started talking and standing up.

 

“IRENE THE GAME IS A-AFOOT. C'MERE IRENE.”

 

Was he seriously replacing everything he and Sherlock had done with Irene?

 

“Sherlock! What the bloody hell are you doing?!”

“Catching the robber! Run! Irene run!”

 

Sherlock started running mini laps around the room and John wished he had brought his video camera.

 

“Irene! We have to break down the door, get out of the way!”

Sherlock took a running start and flung himself on his bed, sheets began to wrap around his arms and he began to become squeamish and whiny.

 

“Irene! Help! He's got me!”

 

“He?”

 

“The woman! Irene, please help something's wrong with him. Ire-”

 

Sherlock went silent, a tear slipped down his face. He was still tangled in a blanket and John got scared.

“Irene, h-hes been shot.”

 

Johns blood went cold. He removed his shoes and climbed up onto Sherlock’s bed, he was still squirming out of the blanket and John grabbed him. John stripped the blanket off Sherlock and cradled him. Sherlock cried into John. Sherlock looked up at John, his eyes were puffy and red.

 

“I never got to tell him.”

 

He sobbed. 

 

“I loved him.”

 

Sherlock's eyes opened. His cheeks flushed pink,

 

“You didn’t happen to hear any of that, I would imagine.”

John pulled Sherlock into his shoulder to cry. He had never seen anything like this, Sherlock was scared. Sherlock gathered up his confidence and looked at John,

 

“You know, even though this is awkward, it can’t get too much worse so bear with me.”

 

“Wha-”

 

Sherlock leaned in and kissed John. 

 

Well, kiss is more of an exaggeration, it was more of a headbut. They both winced in pain and rubbed their heads. Sherlock giggled,

 

“Believe it or not, that was my first kiss.”

 

They both laughed.

 

“Shocking.” 

 

John quipped.

 

“May I ask you a personal favor?”

 

Sherlock's cheeks were still red,

 

“Please don’t move.”

 

“Oka-”

 

And with a sweeping motion, Sherlock pushed John back and had straddled his legs around him, his lips tracing Johns neck. Sherlock looked down at John,

 

“Please never leave me, I love you.”

 

“I love you too, Sherlock Holmes. I really do.”

 

And the rest of the night, they lay there, tangled in the sheets, laughing, kissing, and waiting for the  sun to come up.


End file.
